GRANDDADDY'S BIRTHDAY

We join Jeepers Jamboree for their 7Oth annual trek to the Rubicon

- Chris Collard

On a cool summer morning in the Northern Sierra, a few dozen flat fenders lined up in front of the Georgetown Hotel. Excitement was in the air as the sun crested high granite peaks to the east, illuminating the rough-and-tumble foothill settlement. Drivers grabbed a cuppa joe and gathered around for a trail briefing. Their destination was Lake Tahoe, but not via the paved road. Rather, they would traverse an Indian trail through a place known as the Devil's Playground. Jeep master Mark Smith fired up his engine, and like Julius Caesar, led his troops across the Rubicon and into the annals of automotive history.

The year was 1953, and the town's mining and timber industries had hit the skids. Hotels had closed, mills were quiet, and the last surviving bar was the Miner's Club. A year earlier, a group of Rotarians met at Smith's home to formulate a plan to attract tourists. Each had explored the Rubicon Valley and agreed a Jeep excursion might be popular. Someone suggested the name Jeepers Jamboree, and the group elected Smith to be Jeepmaster.

It was decided the meadow near the old Rubicon Springs Hotel would be basecamp. There was room for tents, participants could swim in the river, and a granite wall provided a natural backdrop for evening entertainment. During the first work party they constructed a dancefloor and kitchen and crafted a swim platform from 55-gallon drums.

Every detail had been addressed, but less than a dozen people had initially signed up. They began pitching the Jamboree at public functions, county fairs, and sent out press releases. Their efforts paid off, and on that cool summer morning 55 vehicles lined up behind Smith for what would become the granddaddy of Jeep events.

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